Capricious
by gythja
Summary: A young OC Dwarf on a very private mission gets a lesson in tolerance.


Sudhri careened down the muddy slope in a barely-controlled slide. The scree ground against his worn boots, and the sloppy mud spattered on his pants, but it hardly mattered in this rain. He would get even wetter soon enough.

Reaching the lively brook at the bottom, he stepped into the water and began to slog upstream, looking keenly about for the landmarks. The water would prevent his feet from leaving any tracks, and although the stream was cold and the footing unsure, it was worth it to keep his find safe from other eyes.

The stream banks grew more rocky, tumbled boulders tufted with wiry grass that grew everywhere that the scrubby thorn bushes didn't. Rain pattered down steadily on Sudhri's faded blue hood and ran in small rivers down his back, but since he chose to be out in it, he chose not to be miserable. He waded on, sharp young eyes searching for the tell-tale color change in the rocks of the bank ...

Here. Just here. Unbelievable that it hadn't been found before, but unmistakable, the light sands on the stream-bed streaked with black, coarse sand, and here and there a subtle, tiny gleam... Stream-gold, here for the taking, all his! Sudhri glanced around carefully, listened closely. Nothing living moved. The wind hardly breathed, a far-off bird chir-upped uncertainly, the rain tapped on rock, the stream rushed under the heavy gray sky. He was as alone as he could hope for, and there would be no better time to take this prize.

Sudhri slipped the pan out from his pack, and, with a last careful glance around, squatted down over the water and began sifting the stream sands, watching for the gleaming gold. It gathered, like he had known it would, but not fast enough, never fast enough. He schooled himself to patience, and let himself get lost in the hunt. Dip, swirl, sift, finally enough grains to gently scoop into the vial from his pouch. Grains, not flakes! Rich reward. Gold was so dear these days...he might have more gain in this one afternoon than he had had in an entire half-year as a delver!

The young Dwarf took a pinch of the gold grains and spread them lovingly across his palm, under the shelter of his hood. He wondered what fine they were, what part silver, what part copper. Another few years as prentice to the goldsmith Thjal and he would have learned those secrets as well, how to part and fine the gold, not just find it. Sindri sighed and scooped the grains into his vial, reached again for his pan. Good Thjal was gone, along with so much else, lost to dragon-fire and ruin. Maybe he would find another goldsmith of some worth to follow and learn from, someday.

Someday. Escaping his bitterness, Sudhri drove himself into the rhythm of the hunt, the excitement of the seeking and finding of treasure. Dip, swirl, sift, scoop. He no longer noticed the cold, the rain, the sloshing water in his boots, the odd feeling of something nibbling the tassel on his sodden hood...

With a yelp, Sudhri lurched forward and fumbled at the axe sheathed on his hip. He turned, armed and ready, to confront-

A goat. At least, that is what he thought they were called. They were kept by the Men in the valley villages. Like a sheep, but no wool, only a smooth, black coat. It was standing atop a low, flat rock jutting into the stream, staring at Sudhri with odd amber eyes, the pupils dark sideways slits. The animal shook its head at Sudhri, wagging around a long black beard, then tucked its chin under to point slim, curving horns at him.

Sudhri glanced about quickly, but there was nothing to see besides the goat. He lowered his axe, and the goat lifted its head, nose extended, sniffing. Perhaps there was a shepherd herding this thing! Sudhri felt a flutter of panic at that thought, and stepped quickly from the stream to climb the tumble of dark rock that made up the banks. When he had a clear view of the surrounding country, Sudhri looked around carefully in every direction. Nothing moved. There was no sound but the light rain, the murmur of water below him. He breathed a sigh of relief, then felt the tug on his hood again. Sudhri whirled around to face the black goat, its wide eyes almost level with his own. He gave it a hard shove and growled, "Go away!"

The goat stumbled back, shook its horns and reared up on its hind legs, feinting at Sudhri. He drew his axe again, and the goat dropped down and stood there, blinking at him. It made a strange, throaty eh-eh-eh sound, then carefully began to rub its horns on a tussock of the wiry grass, as if stropping them, watching the dwarf out of the corner of one eye.

"Showing me there's no rust on your weapons, eh? Well, there isn't any on mine, either!" Sudhri waved his axe at the creature. "Go away! Go back home! Go!" He made shooing motions with his hands, and the goat watched in utter fascination. It stepped a little closer. Sudhri shoved it again, and the goat lowered its head and shoved him back.

Furious, Sudhri raised his axe to strike the animal, then hesitated. If he killed it, there might be inconvenient questions. The Men of the valley valued their stock, and Sudhri doubted it would go unnoticed if this sleek beast disappeared. Best to just ignore the creature and get on with his panning. Time wasted was less gold in his pouch. He scrambled back down to the stream, with the goat leaping from rock to rock behind.

Sudhri found his pan, and started dipping again, but his peace was broken. He had to stay alert now in case there was a shepherd tending this annoying animal. The black goat took up its former position on the flat rock, and watched Sudhri intently. It was unnerving. He felt like it was spying on him.

Sudhri told himself he was being foolish. This was no uncanny creature, it was just a stupid goat, a he-goat, judging from the beard and horns and boldness. Just a he-goat, an annoying beast.

The sideways-slitted eyes regarded Sudhri's every move carefully. The goat leaned its nose forward every now and then, sniffing, but it never took its eyes off of him. Under its amber gaze, the dwarf began to feel nervous again, and it seemed to him that the gold gathered more and more reluctantly in his pan. Finally, in a rage, he cast the pan aside.

"Go away!" Sudhri roared, heedless of the attention his voice might attract. "Go! Now! Or I will kill you! Go!" He stepped menacingly toward the beast, and it once more lowered its head and shook its horns, matching him threat for threat.

Furious, Sudhri gathered a handful of stones from the stream-bed, and began pitching them at the goat. It stood the pelting for a few hits, wagging its beard furiously and rearing, but Sudhri started throwing harder, and the goat finally retreated a little further away. Sudhri followed its retreat, and was satisfied to hear the beast give a sqalling bawl when a good throw hit it in the ribs. "You see! Now, go away!" he shouted.

But the goat still stood its ground. Sudhri was surprised to hear an answering bawl, from higher up. A small black-and-white goat came capering down the rocks, bawling as it came. It dashed to the black goat, skidded to a halt underneath, and rooted around frantically. Then it began to suckle vigorously, tiny white tail fluttering.

Sudhri bent down a little and peered under the black goat. There was an...udder, it was called, he thought. The beast was a she-goat, a mother.

Guiltily, Sudhri let the remaining stones fall from his hand, splashing into the stream. The black goat gazed at him steadily, although her body lurched every now and again when her suckling kid bumped its nose against her udder, hard, making the milk flow. Sudhri sighed, and noticed that the rain had stopped. The sky was still leaden gray, but he could hear the far-off birds begin a tentative song. Sudhri found his pan, again, found his streak of promising black sand, and doggedly once more entered the rhythm of dip, swirl...

He felt the tug on his tassel again, but this time simply pushed the hood back over his tousled blond hair. The black goat regarded him gravely, eye to eye, then reached forward, delicately sniffing Sudhri's hair and plaited beard. She blew a breath from her nostrils onto his cheek, took a careful nibble on the sleeve of his shirt and, satisfied, leaped from the rock back to the gravelly shore, where her kid was curled in a hollow under a thorn bush. The goat began browsing the leaves on the bush. Sudhri watched the goat graze, and noticed she didn't just crop the leaves like a sheep did the grass. She very carefully assessed each leaf as to its worthiness of being in her mouth, smelling it, testing it with her lips. Then, if it passed, the tidbit was claimed by her teeth, dodging deftly between the sharp thorns.

The goat ate rapidly, efficiently, until the thorn bush was nearly stripped, then she daintily stepped to the edge of the stream and drank. She gazed at Sudhri and made her eh-eh-eh sound at him again, and, shaking her dripping black beard, sprayed water droplets all over. Sudhri suddenly was reminded of his mother's maiden aunt, Laul. She had had a silky black beard like that, one she often wagged at her niece's noisy children, even as she slipped sweets into their pockets. Aunt Lo-La, they had called her, although Sudhri couldn't remember why anymore. Laul was long dead, even before Smaug came, but the memory of her fond fierceness made him smile.

"Lo-La," he said to the black goat, "Lo-La, keep my goldfield a secret, and I'll share some of my loaf with you in a bit. I warn you, though," and he shook a finger at her, "never betray a Dwarf! We do not forgive a betrayal. Remember, goat is very tasty!" Lo-La snorted, wagged her beard again, and lay down beside her baby. Together they watched Sudhri sifting the stream, keen eyes gauging his prospects.


End file.
